Disclaimer: I'm not Marvel-obsessed. I simply wish to finish this. And I don't own anything. Rating upped for language. I fully admit to being partially influenced by the Evolution show.

TwilightSoulTaker – The X-Men won't enter for a while. I think Stefan might need a bit more Brotherhood first. As for Pietro, I have things planned.

MuggleBuddy – Yes. Toad all dressed up in warm clothing.

Mulch Diggums – Thank you.

Lamia in crapula – Ahh, thanks. And it's Artemis Junior.

Celynne – Yes, they will join later. Once I find a suitable excuse.

Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews. I find a guilty pleasure in having my ego stroked. (blinks and reminds self that it's supposed to be a story about Stefan and not the others) Ahem. Apologies for canon-wrecking (though I do keep it in mind) and abuse of carolers.

No offence is meant to Jews. I have nothing against them. The carollers were just disappointed.

Toad and Sabertooth may seem vaguely OoC because my perception of them is very Evolution-based. But they get, what, ten lines in the whole movie? Combined. I had to improvise.

Somehow I have this feeling it would be more fun with Pyro thrown in. Guess that'd have to wait. Oh, and am splitting the Christmas chapters.

Chapter Two: 'Tis the Season to be Jolly (I)

New York City

Magneto removed his hat and trench coat, hanging both up on the clothes' tree positioned near the door before stepping further into the apartment. He glanced around at the luxurious interior of the two-storey flat. "Charming place you've got, aside from the cardboard boxes. May I ask as to why it looks suspiciously like Fowl Manor?"

Mystique appeared from around a corner. "Stefan did the interior design. How did you know what their place looks like, by the way?"

"It was once featured on Travel and Living."

"Oh. Would you like something to drink?"

Magneto shrugged. "Tea, I suppose." He looked around. "Have you finished unpacking yet?"

"There's still the computer, but I'm not letting you near it," she called over her shoulder as she made the tea.

Magneto raised an eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Magnets wipe the hard drive," she explained.

Mystique finished the tea and handed his cup to him, sipping from her own mug of coffee as they went over to the table by the floor-to-ceiling windows; Mystique shifting into a normal human form as she went. As far as the Brotherhood was concerned, Toad and Mystique were all for the noble cause of caffeine, while Stefan, Magneto and – unexpectedly – Sabertooth preferred to advocate the good qualities of tea.

Magneto paused in his tea-drinking to admire the view. "This is the penthouse, am I correct?"

"Mm-hmm," she agreed, swallowing another gulp of coffee. "It's expensive, but not bad, really. And this could make a good base whenever we need to go on missions."

"True," Magneto conceded. "We'll use it that way, if you don't mind. So tell me about this new place of yours."

"Stefan recommended this place. He bought the apartment." Mystique polished off her coffee. "Probably as an early Christmas present. It's kind of sweet, really."

"Where did he get the money?"

"He muttered something about algorithms and went off to have lunch. And according to the doorman I'm going to have quite a few interesting neighbours."

"Oh?"

Mystique coughed diplomatically. "There are the Maximoff twins on the floor below, but apparently they won't be much trouble … According to the doorman. And the rest of them are all boring old businessmen who don't actually use their apartments."

"The doorman's word is law now, is it?" Magneto said wryly.

Mystique grinned sardonically in reply.

Magneto stood. "Will you be coming back to the fortress?"

"Maybe." She stretched, catlike, on the recliner. "You know, I was watching Mission Impossible earlier, and the all-out insanity in general made me a little … homesick." She looked up at him. "But then again, this place has a water heater."

Magneto smiled despite himself. "Is that so?"

Mystique was spared answering by a loud knocking on the door.

"I'll get it," Magneto said politely, and made his way over to the double doors. He opened them to be greeted by several odd-looking individuals dressed in full-on winter gear and wearing grins bright enough to illuminate the whole of New York at night.

Magneto resisted the urge to shield his eyes. "Yes?"

The leader of the pack, a burly male with a build to rival Sabertooth's, shoved his way to the forefront. "It's our yearly tradition," he beamed. "We come here every Christmas to sing carols."

Mystique had joined Magneto at the doors, and was now staring blankly at the carollers. Would-be carollers, Magneto added, and ground out, his teeth snapping shut on the words, "I'm Jewish."

The carollers' faces fell. "Happy Hanukkah, then," their leader said sadly, and they shuffled off to the lift. "Guess we'll try downstairs…"

Magneto sighed and shut the door. "I think I'll stay a while longer."

"More tea?" Mystique said sympathetically.

"With some brandy, please."

The aforementioned beverage was duly poured. "How are they doing back at home?"

"They're fine."

"Finished analysis of Stefan's powers yet?"

"Almost. I suppose I could let him off for a while, though."

"He's been with us for what, a month now?"

"Yes."

"You've been exceptionally tolerant towards him," she mused. "Usually if most of us spoke to you the way Stefan does, you'd be lecturing him on manners while hanging them upside down from the ceiling."

"He's nine years old. I am, as you say, cutting him slack. Besides, you and Sabertooth are hardly the sort to be dangled upside down from the ceiling."

"Somehow I doubt that Stefan would get a chance to relax with Toad around."

"True."

For a moment all was quiet, as the two of them stared out at the snow-covered city of New York, drinking in the view and thinking about many things.

Below them, the hapless carollers were bodily flung back into the lift from which they'd come, the vestiges of a bright red hex bolt still sparking around them.

Brotherhood Fortress, Middle of the Sea

Toad, as a matter of fact, had bodily dragged a protesting Stefan to the TV room and sat him down on the carpet before shoving a video controller into Stefan's hands and ordering him to play.

Stefan had scowled, glared and sulked for a while, as some evil geniuses are prone to doing.

Within ten minutes, however, Toad was staring blankly at the screen as Stefan's score flashed on the high score counter. The aforementioned counter seemed to have run out of zeros.

"What the hell?" Toad seemed to be completely devoid of words left to say.

Stefan shrugged. "All you have to do is learn how to play it, and then it's just easy."

He left the room to a dumbfounded Toad.

The aforesaid Toad sighed, shook his head, and picked up Stefan's abandoned video controller. "Now maybe if he stopped using the cheat codes…"

Brotherhood Kitchen

Unfortunately for Stefan, Toad cornered him again later in the kitchen while the precocious nine-year-old was eating buttered toast. Oddly enough, Sabertooth was seated opposite Stefan – drinking tea - though neither of them was acknowledging the other's presence in any way.

"Hello," Toad said, grinning suavely. Or at least what he thought was suavely.

Stefan gaze left his laptop long enough for him to nod his greeting.

Toad looked around. "Where's the toaster?"

"He melted it," Sabertooth said shortly, stabbing a blackened talon at Stefan. Apparently, Toad thought, PopTart withdrawal had affected his vocal chords. Now they were actually working.

Toad stared. "You melted the toaster?"

"I was hungry," muttered Stefan, electric-blue stare still fixed firmly on the screen of his laptop.

"Stefan … when making toast you're not supposed to melt the toaster."

"I know that," snapped Stefan, still not taking his eyes off his precious laptop. "I am just … physically incapable of operating any domestic devices that are even remotely related to the preparation of food."

"Ease on. There are a lot of long words in that sentence." Toad opened the fridge and reached for a beer. Popping the cap off, he kicked the fridge door shut and sat between Stefan and Sabertooth, taking a swig from the bottle. "So," he said finally. "In other words … you can't cook."

A light flush was suffusing the boy's white skin.

"I'll take that as a yes." Toad drank a bit more and watched Stefan's fingers flying furiously on the laptop's keyboard. "Why do you always carry that thing around?"

"It's …" Stefan, for the first time, had to fumble for words. "…Comforting."

Toad raised an eyebrow and leaned back in his chair, teetering on two thin metal legs. "Right."

The sound of breaking, and a growl of mixed exasperation and … some emotion Toad couldn't quite put his finger on … followed it.

There was silence as he watched the snow fall outside, with only the sound of Stefan's typing – so fast that the typing noises had blended together into one continuous sound – to fill it. It was almost peaceful; something to make one feel warm and fuzzy, something nice, something bordering on an almost family-like scene. Even Sabertooth seemed unusually passive that day, staring morosely at the delicate china shards of the teacup, which had broken in his hand.

Toad sighed, and broke the quiet.

"Are you going to get me a Christmas present?" he asked, somewhat teasingly.

This was enough to effectively startle Stefan out of his computer reverie. "What?"

Toad groaned. "Don't tell me. You've never gotten anyone a Christmas present before."

Stefan glared. "Incidentally, I have. If you must know, I bought you all a new base in New York this morning. I think that should be enough."

Toad rolled his eyes. Scrooge. "You're the 'Bah, Humbug' type, aren't you, Ebenezer?"

Stefan smiled mirthlessly. "Yes."

Toad was about to make a smart comment involving Stefan, Santa Claus and the infamous naughty-or-nice list; but then Sabertooth stood up with a screech of friction between the floor and his chair, and the burly mutant left, broken shards digging into his fist and drawing blood. Somehow Toad knew it had less to do with Stefan – well, existing, and far more to do with the cup.

He turned to Stefan with a big grin on his face that didn't reach his eyes. "So?" he prodded. "No presents?"

"No," said Stefan flatly.

"I guessed you weren't the type to separate work from life," Toad said lightly. He changed tack. "Do you like the decorations?"

Stefan looked up and glanced around. Admittedly he approved of the choice in colour scheme; for the décor had comprised mostly silver, white and green, with the occasional small splash of red. Holly and silver, and all that. Overall it spoke of understated elegance. Not too gaudy. Classy. He was reminded, with a faint pang, of past Christmases at Fowl Manor.

Stefan brushed it off and continued typing. Somewhere along the way he had lapsed into typing stanzas of Milton's Paradise Lost.

It was almost hard to believe he could still remember it.

Toad neither knew nor cared what Stefan was typing, but was still waiting expectantly for a reply.

"Yes," Stefan said after a moment. "They're …" – his throat seemed to have constricted – "…nice," he managed, a tad thickly.

Toad nodded, still grinning. It looked genuine. Stefan supposed he was happy at the compliment; though, oddly enough, the elder mutant's eyes were curiously empty.

"Thanks," he said abruptly, and, without further ado, left.

Stefan was alone now, solitary mutant amidst a mass of holly and silver.

Seems more serious lately. I don't know why. Maybe it's the fluffy X-Mas fics that got to me.

Stefan really doesn't know squat about buying apartments in nice neighbourhoods.

I realize they're closer than should be possible, but Stefan's been there a month in fic-time.

Reviews, constructive criticism and suggestions appreciated. The latter may be needed.

Also, I have decided to pull a Fruits Basket on the fic and ask for a popularity vote, just for the heck of it. It's just naming all the characters thus far in the order of which you like them.

By the way – Rogue: to join the Brotherhood or X-Men?

Spelling errors equal QuickEdit.

Mata na.

- E.E.